At the Moonflower Hotel, Atticus Pünd had just finished his breakfast when Maureen Gardner brought him a note. It was from Detective Chief Inspector Hare, explaining that, as Pünd had suggested, he was going into Barnstaple to ask further questions about The Marriage of Figaro, and in particular if any audience members had arrived late. The performance had begun at seven o’clock. Even if Francis Pendleton had left the house at 6.15 p.m. as he claimed, he would only just have arrived in time. Any later and it would have been difficult, if not impossible. Certainly, he wouldn’t have had time to sneak back into the house, murder his wife, cover his tracks, get back to his car, wherever he had left it, and then drive into Barnstaple, park and make it into the theatre in time for the overture.

Once again it all came down to the ten moments in time that Miss Cain had drawn up – the picture that refused to form. Pünd had been unable to get to sleep. It had proved impossible to put the different permutations out of his mind. They had tormented him for much of the night.

Miss Cain joined him in the living room, but from the moment she sat down she seemed out of sorts. She had taken her breakfast in her room, as before, and began by handing him a sheaf of typewritten pages. ‘These are my notes from yesterday,’ she said. ‘There was a lot to cover and I hope I haven’t left anything out.’

‘Thank you.’ Pünd took the documents and quickly glanced through them. There was the interview with Simon Cox, the visit to Clarence Keep, Francis Pendleton, the Chandlers. ‘This all seems to be in excellent order, Miss Cain,’ he said. ‘I did not see that you had packed a typewriter!’ he added, with a twinkle.

‘Mr and Mrs Gardner allowed me to use their office.’ Miss Cain flinched, as if there was something she was holding back.

‘There is something else?’ Pünd asked gently.

‘Well, yes. There is. I hope you won’t think I’ve acted improperly, Mr Pünd, and I suppose it was kind of the Gardners to help me. But after ten minutes, they left me on my own and, remembering what the detective chief inspector said about the hotel’s finances and what might be going on, I decided I might as well take the opportunity to have a look around.’

‘My dear Miss Cain!’ Pünd beamed at her. ‘You are the true Sherlock Holmes. Or perhaps it is more Raffles, the gentleman thief, that you resemble. What did you find?’

‘They were cheating her, Mr Pünd. There can be absolutely no doubt of it. Poor Miss James, putting her trust in two complete crooks!’

She produced three more documents, written and signed by Lance Gardner. They were addressed to different suppliers – food, furniture and laundry in Barnstaple, Taunton and Newquay. In each case, they apologised that, due to an error, an overpayment had been made and requested the company remit the difference by return of post.

‘It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book,’ she said. ‘I was the personal assistant to the manager of the Savoy in London for eighteen months and he explained the whole thing. You deliberately overpay suppliers, often by ten times the correct amount. It’s easy enough to slip in an extra zero. You then write an apologetic letter, just like these ones, asking for a refund. But look where they’re asking the money to be sent!’

Pünd examined the top letter.

‘L. Gardner, Esq.’ He read it out loud.

‘Exactly. That’s his private bank account. So he pockets the difference. There are three letters in your hand and they add up to almost two hundred pounds, and I found lots more tucked away in the files. I couldn’t take any more or they’d have noticed they’d gone missing, but no wonder the hotel is in difficulties. Heaven knows how long this has been going on. They may have stolen thousands.’

‘This is remarkable, Miss Cain.’ Pünd checked the other letters. Sure enough, the amounts requested ranged from fifty pounds to over a hundred pounds. ‘We must pass these to Detective Chief Inspector Hare as soon as he returns.’

‘I would prefer it if you didn’t mention how you got hold of them, if you don’t mind, sir.’

‘As you wish.’

‘There is something else … ’

Miss Cain bowed her head and Pünd realised that it wasn’t actually the theft of the incriminating letters that had been bothering her when she sat down. There was something else on her mind. ‘I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Mr Pünd, but I’ve decided to leave your employ. I will of course work out a month’s notice, but I would like that notice period to start from today.’

Pünd looked up, genuinely surprised. ‘May I ask why?’

‘I have very much enjoyed working for you, sir, and I genuinely admire what you do. You are clearly a remarkable person. But as you saw, I became very upset yesterday when you were discussing the murder with the detective chief inspector. The descriptions of the killing I found – well, as I say, I was very upset.’

‘You had every right to be, Miss Cain. It was wrong of us to speak so openly in front of you.’

‘I don’t blame you at all, Mr Pünd. Far from it. But I’m afraid it made me appreciate that I’m not entirely suited to your line of work. The hotel business, insurance, food manufacture – I’ve been comfortable and, I think, effective in all of them. But young women being strangled, and police officers, and all these people lying to you, that’s quite another thing. I didn’t get a wink of sleep thinking about it last night and by the time the sun came up this morning, I knew that as much as I hate letting you down, this isn’t for me.’

‘I quite understand.’ Pünd smiled a little sadly. ‘I accept your notice, Miss Cain. Although I must say you will be very difficult to replace.’

‘Not at all. The agency has plenty of young women who will be just as good as me. I only hope you solve the case before I leave. I would like to see whoever did this brought to justice.’

‘It is quite possible that you will have your wish. Here is the detective chief inspector and it looks as if he has news.’

It was true. Hare had come striding in with a sense of purpose and self-confidence they had not seen before. He came straight over to them. ‘Good morning, Mr Pünd – Miss Cain. Have you both had breakfast?’

‘Indeed so, Detective Chief Inspector. How was Barnstaple?’

‘It was extremely revealing. I could kick myself for not having gone there before. My trouble was, I relied too much on local officers – although I’m not blaming them. I’m very grateful to you for suggesting I go round.’

‘Are you going to tell us what you found?’

‘Actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to ask you to trust me on this one. I’m going back to Clarence Keep. Would you like to come with me?’

‘It would be my pleasure. Miss Cain?’

‘Certainly, Mr Pünd. I’ll just get my bag … ’

*

There were two uniformed policemen waiting in a second car outside the hotel and on seeing them, Pünd turned to his companion. ‘Do I take it, Detective Chief Inspector, that you are intending to make an arrest?’

‘That’s right, Mr Pünd.’ Hare was a different man to the one who had greeted Pünd just one day before. ‘I’m not expecting any trouble, but I thought it best to ask for two local men to come along.’

‘You know who did it!’ Miss Cain exclaimed.

‘I think I do,’ Hare replied. ‘It follows on from what we were saying last night, Mr Pünd. Thank you for an excellent dinner, by the way. At any event, I think you’re going to find the next encounter greatly to your interest.’

‘Of that I am sure,’ Pünd agreed.

They drove the short distance to Clarence Keep and once again Eric let them into the hall. He looked even clumsier and more dishevelled than usual and he was clearly alarmed by the sight of a police car and two men in uniform, almost trembling until Hare put him at his ease.

‘We have business with Mr Pendleton,’ Hare said. ‘Is he up?’

Pünd noticed a look of relief pass across the butler’s face. ‘He finished his breakfast half an hour ago, sir.’

‘And where is he now?’

‘Upstairs.’

‘Could you ask him to come down? And I would prefer it if you and Mrs Chandler remained in your rooms until I send for you. We need to speak privately with Mr Pendleton.’

That worried Eric again but all he could do was nod. ‘I’ll tell him you’re here,’ he said.

The detective chief inspector went into the living room with its sea views and French windows leading into the side garden and it was there that Francis Pendleton found him a few minutes later. He had managed to get dressed in a clean shirt and a suit without its jacket, but he was clearly knocked back by the sight of so many people waiting for him. Pünd was sitting on a sofa. Miss Cain was perched on a high-backed chair in one corner, as far out of the way as possible. Hare was standing in the centre of the room with one uniformed policeman by the door, the other at the French windows.

He quickly recovered. ‘I’m very glad to see you,’ he said. ‘Do you have any news?’

‘There has been a development, sir,’ Hare said. ‘It actually relates to what you told us about your movements on the day of your wife’s death.’

Pendleton faltered. ‘I’m sorry …?’

‘Could I ask you to sit down, sir?’

‘I’m perfectly all right standing up.’

‘Even so … ’ Hare waited until Francis had sat down, then continued. ‘When we were last here, and indeed in discussions you had with me before that, you said that you left at 6.15 p.m. to go to the opera and that your wife went to bed early as she had a headache. You briefly discussed the meeting she’d had at the Moonflower Hotel, but there was no disagreement between you. Is that correct?’